


the taste of nostalgia on your lips

by cominginside



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Edmonton Oilers, M/M, Windsor Spitfires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:40:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cominginside/pseuds/cominginside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taylor goes back to Windsor for the Spitfires alumni game and ends up revisiting some old juniors traditions with Adam Henrique.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the taste of nostalgia on your lips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [12ways (yourblues)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourblues/gifts).



> Written for the offseasonmatch challenge on LiveJournal for the prompt "Taylor Hall/Adam Henrique - after the Spitfires alumni game, revisiting some other juniors traditions". Betaed by heartandmindxx.

Sitting in the Tecumseh locker room before the alumni game, Taylor almost feels like he never left the Spitfires. If he closes his eyes, it's like he's back in Windsor getting ready for a game, the guys around him talking as they tape sticks and get their pads on. He can hear Henny chirping at Nemo for needing to relace his skates after tying a knot in them and someone's iPod, bass thumping even though the song's too quiet to pick out. It's only when he looks around that he's really reminded that this isn't his team any more. No one's changed all that much, but there are enough subtle differences that it's impossible to forget that they've all moved on.

"Lost in thought?" Shugger asks, dropping down beside him to do up his skates.

"Hallsy doesn't _think_ ," someone says from down the bench. Taylor flips off the unseen speaker and laughs.

"Just that it's weird being back here," he says. "Hasn't changed much."

"Yeah," Shugger says. "It's good to see the guys again."

"Stop gossiping and let's get going," their coach says, pointing his stick at them. "Or you're banned from the card games on the bus later."

Everyone laughs, remembering the complete ineffectiveness of that as a threat. It's not like this team ever really needed to be prodded into getting game-ready. Taylor's never played on another team this raring to go all the time--the Oilers aren't slackers or anything, but it's hard to get it up after losing a few these days.

This game is nothing like those games, though. It's the most fun Taylor's had playing hockey in a long, long time; guys are trying silly moves and even the front office guys are really into it, but guys are still competitive out there. Taylor chirps Ben for getting outplayed by Rychs and gets a glove to the face for his trouble as he laughs and tries to get away, squirming into Cam and nearly knocking him off the bench.

Part of the enjoyment comes from the fact that he's _playing hockey_ again. Sitting out the end of the season had been the right choice, he knows that, but that hadn't made it any easier to sit in the press box night after night, watching the team falter. This year's going to be better. It has to be.

But the Oilers are still weeks away, and right now, he's a Spitfire again. It's easy to fall back into that, easy to pick up the old jokes and habits. He feels younger, breathes easier. No one on this team is expecting him to save them.

They all pile out after the game, guys hitching rides with each other to the after party. Mingling with the crowd is less fun than playing is, but it's not something he really minds. It's nice to see some of the people he'd known when he'd been playing here, catch up a bit, see how much their kids have grown and hear about who's going into what level of hockey. Taylor doesn't know what it's like in any other community with a juniors team, but the Spitfires fans still see all their alumni as part of the community, which was always one of his favourite things about playing here.

No one wants to split up after the party, so they all head out to Windsor proper, hitting up the classy bars that Taylor's fake ID had never worked at while he played here. The rest of the guys all seem to know what's going on, so Taylor just follows them, Henny dropping back to walk with him as they walk from one bar to another.

"Hey," Taylor says, grinning at him. "We should do this more often."

Henny laughs and pulls Taylor over to kiss his forehead. "We did. You were just too good to stick around long enough to come with us, you freak."

"I meant _hang out_ ," Taylor says, swatting at him. Henny just grins and they lapse into silence for a while. Taylor's buzzed enough that the sticky humidity of a southern Ontario summer night is almost comfortable, the heat outside matching the heat prickling under his skin.

"Remember that time after the Erie game?" Henny asks suddenly, voice pitched low.

Taylor does. It'd been spring break, one of the first really warm days that year, and they'd opened their playoff series with a solid win. He and Henny had both put up three points, and they'd been giddy and adrenaline-filled after the game, too wired to go home, especially with no school the next day. They'd ended up at someone's house party, one of those friend-of-a-friend-of-a-girlfriend's-friend type things, and hooked up in the guest room, not quite sloppy drunk but close enough that they hadn't ever worried about getting caught. It hadn't been their first time together, but it'd been one of the best.

"Of course," Taylor says. "Why?"

"Just thinking about it," Henny says. "Those were good times."

"They were," Taylor says. He's got a semi just remembering the way that Henny had pushed him down and fucked his mouth, moans drowned out by the blaring music and people screaming to be heard over it. It's been a long time since the two of them have been in the same place for any long period of time, and things have changed--not just between them, but in Taylor's life as whole. He kind of misses the way that Henny kisses, though, and the way Henny's fingers feel inside him.

"Too bad you settled down," Henny says. He doesn't sound mad about it, just a little wistful, and Taylor leans into him a bit when they stop to wait for traffic. The rest of the group's faster than they are, already half a block up.

"I'm not _married_ ," Taylor says, rolling his eyes. "We're just--" He doesn't know what he and Ebs are, exactly. Together. Permanent, probably. Even thinking about that makes Taylor smile stupidly, and Henny laughs.

"You may as well be," he says. "You're so cute about him that I want to throw up."

Taylor jabs him in the side with his elbow. "Fuck off, Henny," he says, laughing. "You're just sad because you have to work to get laid now that I won't pity fuck you."

"You _were_ pretty easy," Henny says, grinning when Taylor realizes he kind of set himself up for that.

The thing is, Taylor has--well, Ebs had called it a free pass, so maybe that's the best term for it. He can sleep with whoever he wants to, as long as Jordan okays it, and Jordan already gave him the okay for this weekend without Taylor even asking. It's not something he's ever really used before, because he hasn't ever _wanted_ to use it before, but right now he can't stop thinking about the way that he and Henny used to celebrate together, stupid teenagers who couldn't keep their hands off each other after games. He glances up at Henny, whose face is sharply defined by the neon signs around them, and bites his lip.

"Hey, uh," he says, "we could--Ebby doesn't mind if I, like." He pauses as Henny raises an eyebrow at him and then gives up. "Wanna go somewhere and fuck?" Henny stares at him for a minute and Taylor rolls his eyes. "Seriously, man," he says. "Ebby doesn't mind, you can call him and ask or something. Sex. Yes, no, after we drink more? Stop staring at me, you freak."

"Seriously?" Henny asks. "Gimme your phone, I'm calling your boyfriend, and then we're finding somewhere you can blow me."

"Maybe we can borrow whatsherface's guest room again." Taylor digs out his phone, unlocks it, and hands it over. "Don't look at the photos," he warns.

Henny gives him a slightly horrified look and says, "Yeah, no, I really don't think I want to know what kind of shit you have on your phone. Please tell me you're aware that you can lose these things, right?"

"It's locked," Taylor says defensively.

Henny sighs and shakes his head, flipping through Taylor's contacts until he finds Jordan. He stops and leans against a wall, tapping his hand against his side as he waits for Jordan to answer.

"Hey, man, it's Adam," he says suddenly, standing up a little straighter. "Yeah, hi. It was awesome, even if my side lost. Nah, he sucked. You've seen him play, he's nothing special." He grins at Taylor, who considers kicking him in the shin before deciding that seems like too much work. "Hey, so your boyfriend here says that you don't mind if I hook up with him. Is that cool?" There's a long pause. Taylor tries not to fidget--Ebs is the one who suggested this in the first place, but Taylor's never used his free pass before, and it feels weird knowing that Jordan's at the other end of the phone, either giving permission or changing his mind. Eventually Henny grins and says, "Awesome, thanks man. I owe you one. Yeah--definitely. I'll make sure I give him back in the same condition I got him in. Great. I'll get him to call you later." He hangs up and hands Taylor's phone back before saying, "You've got good taste, Hallsy."

"So it's cool?" Taylor asks, wanting to make sure.

"Apparently," Henny says. "Also, just so you know, it's really weird talking to someone's boyfriend when you're kind of hard from thinking about their mouth."

The guys are nowhere to be seen at this point, but Taylor knows that they can go all night. He's rooming with Shuey, so he texts him to let him know that the room will be occupied for a while, then tries to figure out how the hell to get back to the hotel from where they are. In the end, they just call a cab; it's not like they can't afford it, and it's way better than wandering around downtown Windsor while they could be getting laid.

Taylor expects things to be weird for a while, but once they're back at the room, Henny just pushes him up against the door and kisses him, and it's like they never stopped doing this. He brings his hands up to Henny's hips and starts pulling his shirt out of his pants automatically, pushing his hands up under it to feel the way Henny's stomach jumps under his fingertips when he brushes them along his skin. Henny grins into the kiss and nips at Taylor's mouth, then pulls away and says, "which bed is yours?"

"Farthest one," Taylor says. "Shuey still won't sleep near the window."

"Weirdo," Henny says. He walks over to Taylor's bed, shedding clothes as he goes, and Taylor just watches for a minute as all that familiar skin is unearthed. Henny's broader now, and there are a few more scars, but it still feels the same when he walks over and Henny pulls him closer to kiss him again.

"Get naked and get on your knees," Henny says, dropping to sit on the edge of the bed. "Or don't get naked, I really don't care."

Taylor rolls his eyes and gets out of his suit quickly, tossing it towards the chair. It'll be a mess tomorrow but it needs cleaning anyway, and he's sure as hell not going to wear it on the long drive back to Kingston.

The hotel carpet is rough against his knees and he has to shuffle forward carefully to avoid getting rugburn. Henny waits patiently, legs spread and dick half-hard, and Taylor leans in to lick the head even before he takes it in his hand, grinning at the way Henny gasps. _This_ is definitely the same, muscle memory working perfectly as he sucks, one hand around the base and the other dropping back to play with Henny's balls. Henny isn't gentle with him, never has been, pushing Taylor to see how much he can take. Taylor doesn't bother with finesse, not this time--Henny likes things messy, likes it when his dick is slick enough that he can just push it into Taylor's mouth with no resistance, likes the way that Taylor moans around it when he reaches down and tweaks one of Taylor's nipples. Taylor knows all this because it's always the same, and somehow that's never meant _boring_ , not with Henny and never with Ebs.

Taylor loves sucking Henny off, the taste of him spreading across Taylor's tongue and the way Taylor's mouth gets so sensitive that he gets off on the wet slide of Henny's dick against his lips, but he hasn't been fucked in approximately forever and he wants that, too. He pulls off and ignores the annoyed noise Henny makes and the half-hearted shove to the back of his head.

"Fuck me?" he says, sitting back on his heels to look at Henny.

"Do you have anything for that?" Henny asks. He looks annoyingly non-debauched, hair still perfect and cheeks barely flushed, but his cock twitches when Taylor absent-mindedly licks his lips. "Because no way in hell are we making a convenience store run tonight."

Taylor goes to say, "of course," and then stops because he's honestly not sure. There'd been a point in his life when that had been a given, but he hasn't really had any need to pack that stuff recently, not with Ebs on the other end of the country. He really hopes that the bag he'd grabbed back home is one of the ones where he'd actually stocked it, just in case.

A few minutes of digging later, he comes up with half a travel tube of lube and one condom, expiring in two months. Henny laughs when he holds them up triumphantly, then holds his hand out for them.

"At least monogamy hasn't totally changed you," Henny says. "How are we doing this?"

Taylor ends up on his back, a towel-covered pillow jammed under his ass. He likes getting fucked this way--he can kiss whoever's on top of him, and it's easy to jerk himself off without having to worry about balance. Henny grins and settles between his legs, pushing them apart until Taylor flushes a little just from how exposed he is.

"Been a while?" Henny asks as he squeezes some lube onto his fingers.

"Couple weeks," Taylor says, dropping his head back onto the pillow as Henny rubs the inside of his thigh a little. "You know I can take it, Henny, c'mon."

Henny laughs and traces a slick fingertip around Taylor's asshole, making Taylor squirm. He pushes in carefully, which Taylor appreciates despite his earlier comment. It takes him a couple of deep breaths before he remembers how to relax and let Henny in, but when he does, Henny grins and quickly goes to two fingers, not even so much prepping Taylor as fucking him open. Taylor whines in the back of his throat as Henny's fingers go deep and crook up inside him, dick leaking out onto his stomach.

"Fuck, Henny, just--fucking stop being a tease," he says as Henny slides in a third finger as slowly as possible.

"Gotta make sure you're good and ready," Henny says, still slicking him up. "I'm gonna fuck you hard, I don't want friction burns."

Taylor huffs at him and then arches up when Henny presses deep inside him again. He's so hard he's aching, so he untangles his fingers from the sheets and grabs his dick, squeezing it to distract him from how good Henny's fingers feel. Henny laughs again and finally pulls his fingers out, grabbing the condom and sliding it on before using the end of the lube to slick himself up. He slides forward and pulls Hallsy's legs up around him, then lines up and pushes in, eyes dropping halfway shut and hands tightening on Taylor's thighs hard enough to bruise.

"Fuck," Taylor says, pushing back against Henny. Henny doesn't waste any time taking it slow, just pulls back out and snaps his hips forward, driving into Taylor hard enough that Taylor's jolted back into the bed. He yelps and Henny pauses for a second before Taylor says, "no, keep going, come on." Henny takes him at his word and fucks him hard and fast, never letting Taylor catch his breath. It's fucking perfect, every thrust sparking under Taylor's skin. They hadn't gotten to do this as often as Taylor would have liked back in juniors, too many morning practices and long drives back to Windsor, but when Henny's in the mood to make Taylor cry out, he knows just what to do. Taylor can't even get it together to get himself off, but he's really not sure he needs to do more than let Henny drive him hard into the bed, his cock jerking as Henny fucks him.

"Fuck, I've missed this," Henny says, his voice rough as he leans down to bite Taylor's mouth hard enough to hurt. "You're so fucking good, Hallsy. Do you know what you look like right now, all spread open for me? Fucking porn star."

Taylor moans and arches up shamelessly as Henny bites his jaw and bends him nearly in half. He's so close to the edge that he can feel it, heat pooling in his stomach and running through his veins. His legs ache and his lip stings where Henny had bitten it, but it's the good kind of pain, the pain that makes everything feel that much sharper and _better_. He just needs that little bit more, that extra something to get him there, but he's not in a rush. It's too good like this, everything going blurry around the edges and the way Henny looks right now, all focus and flushed skin.

"You wanna come?" Henny asks him, and Taylor can't even find words, but he nods and moans when Henny sits back, still buried deep inside him, and slicks up his hand with the precome smeared across Taylor's stomach. There's no teasing now, just Henny's hand stroking his cock firmly until Taylor cries out and comes hard across his chest. He's panting hard and shaking slightly when Henny reaches up and streaks his own come across his lip, grinning when Taylor licks it off.

"God, I love fucking you," Henny says.

Taylor laughs and sprawls out across the bed, enjoying the boneless tingling post-orgasm feeling. "So get back to it," he suggests, stretching his legs out as much as he can before settling back in.

"How about you ride me?" Henny says. "Maybe I want to be the one lying there while you do the work."

"Ugh, fine," Taylor says. Henny pulls out and Taylor makes a face at the inevitable weird feeling that creates. It's easy enough to slide back onto Henny's dick once Henny's arranged on the bed, Taylor's thighs spread across his hips. Henny looks smug as Taylor sinks down onto him and Taylor clenches down just to watch Henny gasp.

Being on top is a fucking work out, especially after a game and spending all that time with his legs up, but Taylor loves it anyway. Now he can set the pace, teasing Henny by holding him down and going slow, barely lifting his hips even when Henny's swearing at him and trying to thrust up into him. He's only a little surprised when he gets hard again, but like this it's easy enough to get a hand around himself and jerk himself off, and more than worth the effort when Henny groans and says, "fuck, that's hot."

Usually it takes a while for him to get towards orgasm right after coming, but he feels like he's still most of the way there from the first time around right now. All it takes is for him to shift a little and change the angle and he's seeing stars with every thrust.

"Come on, Henny, fuck, just--fucking come for me," he says, doing his best to bring Henny with him over the edge.

Henny can't even answer, just groan as Taylor picks up speed, bracing himself with one arm over Henny. Suddenly Henny goes taut beneath Taylor and nearly growls as he comes. Taylor rides him through it, then finishes himself off with a few quick twists of his wrist, adding to the mess on both of them. He takes a few seconds to catch his breath before he pulls off Henny and collapses onto the bed next to him, wincing at the ache in his thighs and hips.

"That was fucking great," Henny says eventually.

Taylor turns his head to grin at him, too exhausted to do more than that. "Yeah."

"Think Shuey'd kill us if I crashed here?" Henny asks. "Because I don't think I can move."

"Ugh," Taylor says. "Probably."

He finally gets the energy to roll over and find his pants, digging out his phone and cringing at the number of texts he has. Most of them are drunken gibberish--one from Nemo is completely indecipherable--but there's one from Shuey from only a few minutes ago. Taylor reads it and grins.

"He picked up a rocket and went to her place," he tells Henny, settling back onto the bed. "Stay if you want."

"Fuckin' a, that's perfect," Henny says. "I'm stealing the bed that isn't disgusting as soon as I remember how to have legs."

"You're sharing," Taylor tells him. "I'm gonna call Ebs if you want to grab a shower or something."

Henny laughs. "Remember when you bitched about him calling his girlfriend too much?" he asks, grinning when Taylor makes a face at him. "Your jealousy was adorable."

"Whatever," Taylor said. "It was annoying."

"Uh huh," Henny replies, but he lets it drop and does actually get up to shower when Taylor calls Ebs.

"So?" Jordan asks him. "Did you have fun?"

Taylor's pretty good at recognizing Jordan's vocal tones by now, and there's no jealousy in the question, just amused curiosity. "Yeah," he says. "It felt like old times. I miss you, though."

"Good," Ebs says, laughing. "I miss you too. How'd the game go?"

They catch up for a while until Taylor starts yawning more often than he's getting words out and Jordan tells him to go to bed. Taylor hangs up, feeling good about his life. He misses his Spits boys and the times he'd had in Windsor, but not so much that he'd trade in his present for his past. Someday he'll get the Oilers the same level of success, and he'll do it with Jordan by his side, and it'll be perfect. Right now, though, he's going to shower so he's less sticky and gross.

Henny's still awake when he comes out, checking his phone and yawning. Taylor flops down next to him and wriggles his way under the covers, grumbling at the cheap hotel sheets, and Henny reaches over and ruffles Taylor's hair with one hand.

"It was good to see you," he says.

"You too," Taylor says. "If you ever decide to escape New Jersey, you should come to Edmonton."

"Only if you get the rest of the crew together," Henny says, laughing. "Spitfires 2.0 or something."

"I wish," Taylor says. "We're so far apart these days."

"Yeah," Henny says. "That's what happens when you grow up, Hallsy."

"I know. Still sucks, though."

"How about you come to Jersey, then?"

"I've been there, bro. You couldn't pay me enough to live there," Taylor tells him seriously.

"And you'd miss Eberle," Henny says. "I guess we'll just have to save that reunion for when we retire and end up in seniors leagues."

Taylor's laugh turns into a yawn, and he reaches over and flips off the light, sighing as he burrows back into the pillow. "Us versus the world, old dude version," he says. "Can Ebs come?"

"Of course," Henny says. "We'll need his sick mitts."

"Good," Taylor says. He falls asleep dreaming of it, all the guys together, grey hair and wrinkles and still as great as ever.

In the morning, the guys get together for breakfast, most of them hungover but triumphant. Taylor looks around the table, taking them all in--his boys, his team, even if they aren't teammates these days. Their run was something special, and the fact that so many of them are here right now says something about why it was possible.

He gets about a dozen bro hugs as they leave, Shuey eventually breaking off from the group and leaning on his horn to get Taylor to stop saying bye and actually get going. Taylor laughs and shakes his head, giving Henny one final hug.

"Same time next year?" Henny asks.

"I'll be here," Taylor promises.


End file.
